


Blood Against the Snow

by aizetsus



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 08:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizetsus/pseuds/aizetsus
Summary: A memory of cold, and a fight like any other.





	Blood Against the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> this is entirely based on [waen's incredible art](http://vwyn19.tumblr.com/post/163412738689/rigel-falls) which i haven't stopped thinking about for months

Winter in Rigel is cold and unforgiving. Knuckles and lips split and bleed, the red drops forming a stark contrast against the overwhelming white and gray. The winds whip and steal breath from all, choking against an invisible grip. The devout followers of a chaotic god are the only souls who dare brave the cold, for their hearts and minds carry a much deeper chill, frozen to the very core of their being. And yet a sound sings through the howling wind: the scrape of metal being dragged through the hall, the clunk of armour striking fear into those who have yet to lose the last shred of their humanity. Fear proves itself to be the most basic human feeling of all, and yet their harbinger brings testament of a life without such fear, told through the pace at which he walks through the hall. Red reappears, with a face a mask of stone. The fur lining his cloak sweeps and catches the frost that blankets the hall, but he heeds it no mind. The enemy may be strong, but he is stronger; no reservations or regrets to snatch him by the ankles and drag him back to the security of his company. Shadows cast by moulded posts cloud his face in darkness and the low light glints against his armour, catching and pooling in the marks left by previous battles. His march is steady, emanating an aura of death to all who hear the sound. He is not vicious, but his intent is clear; mercy is not a friend of war, nor is it a friend of his. So when he strikes, he tears, and fights, and annihilates. The ground seems to shake under the force of his attacks while he tries and tries to  _ feel _ \--and is left barren. Corpses pile at his feet and he wants to be horrified, disgusted, or even proud. Yet all he feels is as numbing as the bitter cold. It sinks into his bones, leaving him bereft of warmth, as though he himself were already as lifeless as those beneath him. A placid smile plasters to his face, as always, and he walks on, knowing and believing that each life he takes is worth more than his own--or at the very least, at some point, was capable of truly living. 

**Author's Note:**

> lukas deserves more love im sorry this is emo


End file.
